


Between

by biggestbaddestwolf



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:53:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggestbaddestwolf/pseuds/biggestbaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the deaths that broke Eliot. A retrospective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between

There's a gurgling noise, from the back of the ex-marine's throat, and Eliot thinks _I did that_ and swears it will be the last time he holds a gun.

He doesn't remember much of before the crew nowadays, or at least he tries not to. But sometimes, when he looks and sees the people he cares about- people like Nate, people like Parker- teetering that edge that he walked for so very long, he remembers with a clarity sharper than actual sight.

That's not the first time he's shot someone, and it's not the first time he's killed, but this one makes a difference. He can't say why- maybe he's more scared, maybe he's less scared. Maybe there's no rush of adrenaline, but there's this bizarrely serene knowledge of what he's capable of, of what he could see himself doing for the rest of his life, and what he's pretty sure the men he served with...well, to be honest, some of them can probably see themselves doing exactly that, lining up the shot, setting up the bomb. Not during war time, but for money, for a name, for something that's no real cause. Some of the others would rather die.

The thing that shakes Eliot is that he's somewhere in between. The action comes easy, even without the adrenaline and fear and backing his actions. He's told to pull the trigger and he does, and he can, and it's no hardship, but afterwards, he remembers swearing an oath. Something he did a long time ago, and something he wishes he still believed in.

God and country and all of that. It's all the worse for Eliot because he can move like a mercenary but he feels like he should be a patriot. He's too soiled to be much of a good patriot, but every so often he finds himself caring, like now, about the man in front of him, dying. He finds everything aching and burning inside, and if he says a word, he's done. He's out, whether he wants to be or not.

He sure as hell can't go back home, to any of them. So where does that leave him?

Here, he guesses, in the in between, shooting another ex-soldier and hoping he can stop caring.

**Author's Note:**

> weird rambling piece, just trying to get into Eliot's head a bit.


End file.
